Day Light
by Haiti2013
Summary: Alfred glanced out the window and groaned as he noticed the first signs of morning stream in. He shut his eyes and moved in closer to Arthur. He didn't want the night to end. Not yet. He wasn't ready.


_**Hmmm, my first USxUK**_

_**This is definitely uncharted territory for me...**_

* * *

Alfred had never felt so numb. It was like someone had tore reality away from him and left him to float away in the dark unknown.

"Are you sure?" He demanded into the phone. He felt a chill come over his body as his boss repeated the words and he could momentarily feel the air rush out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He didn't want to breathe as if somehow, holding his breath could actually stop time. If that were true, Alfred doubted that he would ever breathe again. _We're going to war with England, _his boss had dictated to him. He hated those words, with every cell in his body. The words haunted him, tormented him. They floated in his mind and refused to leave, but they weren't done. No, far from it, these words implanted themselves in Alfred's brain and festered, like some sort of tumor. _With England. _Those were the words that scared him the most, that hurt him the most.

_As if it weren't enough for this young country to get involved in a war, it had to be with the UK! One of the most powerful nations in the world, they practically own at least half of the goddamn planet! This couldn't be happening. It wasn't happening! He must have one too many hamburgers and was probably just trapped in some sick dream. England? Why in the world would they want to take on England?_ Alfred sighed. He knew the reason all too well but that didn't mean he condoned the war in the slightest. There are other ways to be free. Even though there can only be one country that will emerge victorious, in the end both of us will truly lose. _Oh shit,_ he realized. _How am I going to tell Arthur? Well, he probably knows but I should go see him. _

In a couple of minutes, Alfred was standing on Arthur's stoop. The Brit had to come home sometime and Alfred was prepared to wait there the whole night if he had to. At around 7 PM, the Englishman finally showed up at his door, ready to forget the day but groaned when he saw who was waiting for him.

"Alfred, go home," he said sternly.

"Aw come on, Iggy. Here me out."

"Don't call me that," he deadpanned, walking past him and up the stoop. "Only my friends can call me that and as of today, we are no longer friends."

"You don't mean that."

"You don't know what I mean," Arthur said coolly. The American watched his friend sadly as the Brit attempted to unlock his door, but kept fumbling with the keys.

"Look, it's not my fault-" he began.

"Right, it's my fault," the Englishman remarked, sarcastically.

"Well, my people did ask nicely that you guys-"

"Asked nicely? You mean with their threats and throwing our tea in the harbor?"

"We had to-"

"They're bloody animals, there was no way we were going to let them have a voice in our government." Alfred's eyes grew cold as he stared at the Brit.

"First of all, you do _not _insult my people," he started as he moved up the steps. "Secondly, I told you before, that this was our last resort. You didn't leave us any choice." Arthur glared at the _American_, or so he called himself now, who hovered above him. _Why was the bastard so damn tall? That's why he thinks he can do whatever he wants. The Yankee is a bloody giant!_ The Englishman had known that the colony was getting too strong and that a war was bound to ensue, but he had foolishly held out hope that they wouldn't. And it wasn't like other countries hadn't declared war against Britain before, yet somehow this was different. It was personal. Arthur cursed the blue eyed delegate for standing so close to him, causing his heart to race and his palms to sweat. He turned around briskly and finally managed to open his door.

"Just go home, Alfred," he sighed, heading inside his house, but the bespeckled man was resilient. He held the door open as the Brit tried to slam it in his face.

"You can't stay mad at me. This isn't my fault. It has nothing to do with us."

"This has everything to do with us," Arthur shot back angrily. "You think I could just forget your betrayal? My country is hurting because of you guys, about to start a war we never wanted because a bunch of Yankee bastards got greedy!"

"It's not greedy to want to be seen as equal," Alfred said, sternly. "Isn't that why you guys have Parliament? So everyone gets a say? The king claims we're his people, shouldn't we be treated like it?" Arthur stared at his friend angrily but sighed in agreement.

"But did you have to start a blasted war?" The taller man shrugged.

"It wasn't an easy choice."

"Of course not," Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's not like you guys aren't the faintest bit trigger-happy." The American smirked a little.

"I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. But seriously Artie," Alfred said maturely. "All those warnings we sent, it wasn't to anger you. Why didn't you take them seriously?"

"I never thought you'd actually follow through. I didn't know you hated us so much."

"We don't hate you. We just wanted you to pay attention, to listen."

"We're listening now, please Alfred, stop this."

"It's too late."

"Then why are you here?"

"Just because our countries are going to war doesn't mean I want us to change."

"You must be kidding," scoffed Arthur. "And you had the gall to calm me the crazy one?"

"I'm serious Iggy, you're my best friend," he asserted, searching the Brit's face, eventually landing on his sea green eyes. "Even more than that, I don't want to lose you."

"You've got a hell of a way of showing it."

"Please, I don't want to fight with you."

"Is that right? You didn't want to _fight _with me?," he spat. "Is that why you started a bloody _war_?"

"I told you, it wasn't my choice," he replied through gritted teeth. "I didn't want this."

"What do you want Alfred? Because frankly, I'm confused," the Brit huffed, crossing his arms.

"I want...I want..." the American searched for the right words. "I want us. I don't want this war to come between us." Arthur shook his head and retreated into his room, with the dirty blond on his heels. However, the bespeckled man stood in the doorway as the gentlemen sat silently on his bed.

"I'm-I'm not-I can't be your little brother anymore," Alfred continued. "But I'll always be there for you." The Brit shut his eyes and breathed deeply. The other man stood still, just watching. They stayed like that for a couple of moments before the dirty blond decided to take a step forward.

"Arthur, I'm scared."

"What?"

"This war," he continued as he took another step forward. "It terrifies me. Just the thought of what could happen, how it will end."

"One of us is going to lose," Arthur said coldly. Alfred stopped walking but nodded.

"And that's what scares me most of all."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

"You remember what you used to do when I got scared a long time ago?" The Brit couldn't help but smile at the thought of young Alfred shaking at the thought that 'aliens' might come get him but then he realized...

"You want to sleep here? With me?"

"It's where I feel the safest and with both our futures about to be changed forever, I think we both deserve a night where we're allowed to feel safe, at least one more time." The Brit looked at the American who was waiting for his reaction.

"Fine," Arthur agreed.

* * *

Alfred watched quietly, which was hard for him, as the Brit's sea green eyes grew heavy and eventually shut. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. Arthur was a lot less angry when he was asleep; his face was relaxed and peaceful. For a moment, Alfred felt like he could watch it all day. That's when he remembered. He wasn't that lucky. Time was running out. Fast. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to stop time and just lie here, next to Arthur, for as long as he could. But he could feel the night slipping into day, as the minutes slid out of his grasp, turning into hours. No matter what he did, the earth just kept on spinning and tomorrow was coming.

The American shook his head as if it would erase his thoughts. He didn't want to think about losing time, he wanted to focus on what he had now. And that was Arthur, sleeping right next to him. He glanced over the Brit's resting body, trying to soak it all in. He fought the signs of fatigue that were trying to take over him. He refused to sleep, determined not to waste precious time on something he could do when he was alone. However, eventually the urge to rest overcame him and he fell asleep, pressed up against the gentleman. After what seemed like seconds, Alfred's awoke gently to the sight of rays of light blue and violet streaming in through the window.

Even though it was just the beginning signs of daylight, the American felt like the light was burning his eyes. He shut them tightly and moved his body so he was lying against the Brit again, but Arthur shifted. Alfred's chest felt heavy as the gentleman rose and sat up.

"You should go," he said softly. "It's about to start."

"I don't wanna," Alfred mumbled into a pillow, causing the Englishman to smile before he remembered.

"You don't have a choice," he deadpanned.

"Okay, how about breakfast?"

"We don't have that kind of time."

"Come on Artie, it's just breakfast. You can cook me anything you want," Alfred offered, grinning. The Brit blushed slightly as he got up. Alfred was the only person who ever eat his cooking, even claiming that it was 'sweet and tasty' on occasion. He was going to miss that.

"No," he replied sternly. "I have to get ready to go as well." The Englishman started to gather Alfred's things and handed them back to the American, who accepted them in defeat. They headed to the front door in silence and soon Alfred was out the door. Once he was down the stairs, the American turned to the Brit standing in the doorway.

He didn't want to leave, but his people needed him. For the first time in his life, the American cursed his patriotism. He wished he could just go back into the Brit's flat, shut the door and forget about the world around them. The Englishman shook his head as if he knew what Alfred was thinking.

"You couldn't abandon them just as much as I could abandon the crown," he reasoned. Alfred nodded, but tightened his jaw.

"So, I'll see you out there?"

"You will." Alfred seemed to go over something in his head before climbing back up the stairs.

"Iggy, no matter what happens," the American began as he moved closer. "I need you to know-" Arthur raised a hand to stop him.

"I know," the gentleman smiled lightly.

"Do you?" Alfred asked seriously, his eyes searching the Brit's face. Arthur couldn't stop his cheeks from reddening and hated that the bloody Yankee was standing close enough to see them. Except, he wasn't. He honestly liked having the American standing so near him. It sent goosebumps up him arms and his hands felt clammy. This had been happening a lot recently and Arthur was extremely confused by these feelings. I mean, Alfred was just his best friend, right? They had been through alot together ever since the Brit had decided to take the young tyke under his wing. But Arthur had to admit he wasn't so little anymore and it hurt to think that Alfred wasn't going to need him.

"Yes, I do," the Englishman nodded. "You're growing up and you don't need me anymore?"

"Whoa? Don't need you? Is that what you think this is?"

"Obviously, you guys want to be on your own."

"Yea, we do, but not because we don't need England anymore. We just want to be independent, it's not like we never want to hear from you again."

"Really?"

"Of course. I could never not need you, I love-waffles."

"What? You love waffles."

"Yes, forget it."

"Why did you say waffles?"

"I'm hungry okay, just drop it."

"So hungry that you enter random food items into serious conversations? I mean, I know it's you but even you have to admit that's a bit bizarre. Are you sure-" Arthur's rant was cut off by the sensation of Alfred's lips crashing into his. It took a moment to understand what was going on and even then he wasn't quite certain. He just made sure to keep his head lifted so the American didn't have to lean too far down and Arthur was happy. Really happy. Too happy. He pushed Alfred away from him, looking down at the floor.

"What was that?"

"A kiss?"

"Why?"

"I kind of thought, that's-"

"No, Alfred!" Arthur snapped, trying to be serious but barely able to force the words out. "We are about to go to war!"

"No! Our countries are! I don't want to fight with you," Alfred pleaded. "I love you." The Brit could feel his heart shatter. This is what he wanted; this is what he's always wanted. Just him and Alfred. Together. But it was too late. And knowing that the Yankee had felt the same way, only made it worse because he was going to have to leave. Arthur couldn't believe he had wasted so much time. _If I had only known earlier…maybe I could have stopped this. Maybe we could have-_The sound of a huge bell blared through the streets. Arthur was going to have to leave soon. It was time.

"You better get going," the Brit sighed. "They're going to need you."

"Yea," the dirty blond responded, eyes still focused on the Englishman. He didn't look like he wanted to leave.

"Bye, Alfred." The American winced at the words.

"No, not 'bye'," he demanded. "This isn't the end, our countries our fighting, not us. Nothing's going to change. I promise." Arthur took a deep breath and sighed before attempting a small smile.

"Fine," he conceded. "I'll see you later Alfred."

"Damn right, you will," he smirked.

"Now get out of here, you git," Arthur chuckled. "I have a war to get ready for."

"I'll leave for now," Alfred decided. "But you aren't going to get rid of me that easy."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Alright, later." The American bounded down the steps and waved to the man in the doorway. Arthur watched as he disappeared into the sunrise. When he couldn't see him anymore, he shut the door, leaned against it and sighed. Alfred always liked to see the bright side to things, always hoping for the best and it was that confidence that made Arthur smile, but the Brit knew the truth. As much as he wanted to believe the American's optimism, one of them was going to lose this war and nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

_**A/N: **__**Thanks for reading!**_


End file.
